“I am but a humble commoner from Beihai; what more could all under Heaven possibly add to me?”
After hearing those words, Cheng Li silently repeated them to himself.
When he looked at Zhang Jing again, his eyes were filled with approval.
As though he had suddenly realized something, excitement surged within him.
Immediately, he performed a formal bow and declared:
“This commoner, Cheng Li, courtesy name Zhongde, is willing to acknowledge the General as my lord and serve you with the loyalty of a hound and horse.”
The moment Cheng Li heard Zhang Jing utter those words, he understood the young man’s character.
That single phrase—”What more could all under Heaven add to me?”—made him realize that if he refused to enter Zhang Jing’s service today, the likely outcome would be the extermination of his entire clan.
It was not that Cheng Li feared death.
Rather, Zhang Jing’s temperament, his conduct, and his vision had allowed Cheng Li to glimpse a genuine possibility of success.
And since he had little choice in the matter anyway, serving the Yellow Turbans was not entirely unacceptable.
“Zhongde, please rise at once.”
Zhang Jing hurried forward to help him up and said joyfully:
“With Zhongde’s assistance, I, Zhang Yuheng, shall surely accomplish great things!”
In truth, the current Zhang Jing was a rather complicated individual.
A few days earlier, he had awakened memories from a previous life.
And that previous life was hardly ordinary.
He had been a struggling writer from the twenty-first century who specialized in the history of the Three Kingdoms period.
As for why such a thing had happened, after combining the memories of both lives, Zhang Jing could only attribute it to philosophy.
Was it Zhuang Zhou dreaming of being a butterfly?
Or a butterfly dreaming of being Zhuang Zhou?
He lacked the ability to investigate such mysteries.
After all, philosophy was philosophy—those who understood, understood.
As the son of Zhang Rao, a commander of the Qingzhou Yellow Turbans, after his father’s death from illness, Zhang Jing found himself confronted by numerous problems.
Yet as someone who had lived two lives, he understood better than anyone that surrendering to Cao Cao was merely a well-decorated road to death.
Being familiar with this period of history, he knew that although the Qingzhou troops would remain active for some time, among the vast Qingzhou Army, not a single truly outstanding general would emerge.
His own eventual fate was therefore easy to imagine.
Thus, after taking control of power, when faced with Cao Cao’s fortified-defense and scorched-earth strategy, the “wife-loving Cao” (a joking modern nickname for Cao Cao), he directly brought out the huihui pao—a powerful counterweight trebuchet.
Leaving the main army around Lu County and Feicheng, he disguised himself and traveled to Dong’e with only two hundred cavalry and infantry.
Possessing memories from two lifetimes, he understood the Yellow Turbans’ greatest dilemma better than anyone.
They lacked food.
And if one lacked food, one needed a man capable of securing supplies.
Looking across the entire late Han and Three Kingdoms era, Cheng Li was undoubtedly the greatest logistics and grain-procurement expert of them all.
Even men such as Xun Yu and Zhuge Liang could scarcely compare.
And so,Zhang Jing had come.
“I do not deserve such praise, my lord.”
A trace of delight appeared on Cheng Li’s face as he immediately settled into his new role.
After a moment’s thought, he said:
“However, I do have one question and hope my lord can enlighten me.”
“Speak freely, Zhongde.”
Zhang Jing waved his hand casually.
Cheng Li’s expression became serious.
“It concerns that stone-throwing machine.
Does it truly possess the terrifying power that my lord described?
At present, Cao Cao has adopted a strategy of fortified defense and scorched earth.
The major strongholds south of Yan Province are all heavily garrisoned.
The great clans each maintain fortified estates guarded by their own retainers and private troops.
The defenses of these strongholds are no weaker than those of county seats themselves.
If we cannot destroy them…”
Cheng Li did not elaborate further.
He believed Zhang Jing understood exactly what he meant.
The strength of the Yellow Turbans lay in field battles and in their overwhelming numbers.
At least within Yan Province, few could match them in open combat.
But when it came to siege warfare, the Yellow Turbans were sorely lacking.
Earlier, when Zhang Jing had mentioned possessing a siege weapon capable of destroying cities, Cheng Li had paid little attention, since he had not yet intended to join the Yellow Turbans.
Now things were different.
If Zhang Jing truly could not produce such a weapon, then this Yellow Turban force would find survival exceedingly difficult.
It was impossible for Cheng Li not to take the matter seriously.
“Please rest assured, Zhongde.”
Zhang Jing spoke with great confidence.
“My stone-throwing engine is far superior to the Han court’s traction catapults.
My machine can hurl a boulder weighing one shi over two hundred paces. *60–71.68 kg
Wherever it strikes, nothing can withstand it. It can bury itself seven feet into the ground.”
He continued candidly:
“To be honest, the followers of the Way of Great Peace under my command were never completely united.
When my father died, some even wished to surrender to Cao Cao.
Within the Yellow Turbans there were several separate factions.
Most had rallied because of my father’s virtue and reputation, not because they were his direct followers.
Had I not created this stone-throwing engine, the Yellow Turban forces of Yan Province might already have scattered like birds and beasts.
Fortunately, the weapon lived up to expectations.
I remained determined to strengthen our cause through our own efforts.
As things stand now, all the Yellow Turban generals in Yan Province can be brought under my command.
Given enough time, I shall surely surpass my father’s achievements.”
“Hiss—”
After hearing this, Cheng Li looked at Zhang Jing as though he were some extraordinary prodigy.
A chill of astonishment ran through him.
The Han dynasty’s catapults were already considered formidable siege weapons.
They could hurl stones weighing over 5kg to distances exceeding three hundred paces, and their destructive power was considerable.
But compared to the weapon Zhang Jing described, they seemed little more than a child’s toy.
Although Zhang Jing’s trebuchet had a somewhat shorter range, the weight of its projectiles was more than ten times greater than those launched by conventional Han catapults.
The sheer power of such a machine was difficult for Cheng Li to believe.
Moreover, Zhang Jing had already subdued the various Yellow Turban commanders.
If he truly managed to establish a foothold in Yan Province, his prestige would inevitably reach unprecedented heights.
And once that happened, the possibilities would be endless.
After all, the remaining Yellow Turban forces were not significantly weaker than the regional warlords.
Their sole weakness was that they lacked territory they could firmly control and lacked the ability to defend and govern land.
But Zhang Jing possessed a workable plan for pacifying and administering the people.
Thinking this, Cheng Li smiled warmly and said with genuine admiration:
“With such a divine weapon in your hands, my lord, even the cities that Cao Cao relies upon for defense need not concern us.”
“Well said, Zhongde.”
Zhang Jing replied with complete confidence.
“Since the day the stone-throwing engine came into being, every fortress and city within my sight has been destined to become a ruin.
Once the engine arrives, walls and strongholds alike will be ground to dust.”
This was not merely Zhang Jing boasting.
The truth was that if the huihui pao (counterweight trebuchet) appeared in this era, it would be nothing less than a dimensionality-reducing advantage—a weapon generations ahead of its time.
There were certainly cities capable of resisting such a siege engine.
But those cities were definitely not in Yan Province.
Yan Province lay in the heart of the Central Plains.
More than sixty percent of its territory consisted of flatlands, part of what would later be known as the North China Plain.
Historically, major wars had been relatively infrequent there.
But whenever war did break out, the region became a battleground surrounded on all sides.
Strategic passes and fortified chokepoints did exist.
Yet for the Qingzhou Yellow Turbans, they might as well not.
For the simple reason that the Yellow Turbans were already operating deep within the heart of Yan Province.
At this point in time, Cao Cao lacked the ability to defeat them outright.
His strategy was to wait for the Yellow Turbans to gradually corner themselves and fall into ruin, while still entertaining the dream of eventually accepting their surrender.
After all, while Zhang Rao was alive, he had maintained frequent correspondence with Cao Cao and had indeed expressed an intention to submit to him.
Near noon, a convoy slowly departed from Dong’e County.
Inside one of the carriages sat Cheng Li and his two sons.
His eldest son, Cheng Wu, was around fifteen or sixteen years old.
His younger son, Cheng Yan, was only ten.
The two boys viewed their father’s decision quite differently.
“Father,”
Cheng Wu said anxiously, “Have you truly made up your mind?
The Yellow Turbans are now being squeezed by warlords on every side and have no place left to stand.
By entering their service, aren’t you boarding a pirate ship?
Once aboard, I’m afraid there may be no turning back.”
Meanwhile, Cheng Yan was busy looking around curiously through the carriage.
He had no particular opinion about his father’s choice.
As far as he was concerned, as long as he remained by his father’s side, it made little difference where they went.
“You foolish child.”
Seeing the worry on his son’s face, Cheng Li felt a pang of tenderness.
He reached out and ruffled Cheng Wu’s hair before saying:
“In today’s world, where is there a ship that isn’t a pirate ship?
If I don’t board the Yellow Turbans’ ship and instead board Governor Cao’s ship, does that somehow make it any less of a pirate ship?”
He paused briefly before continuing:
“Do you really think there would be any turning back then?”
— The end of the Chapter–
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